Authors: Rebecca Paisley
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #HISTORICAL WESTERN ROMANCE
“What an unusual gift for your sister,” Hammond said, his voice quaking with amazement and desire. “She is extremely fortunate to have a sister who is as generous as you are, Theodosia. Does she resemble you?”
Theodosia opened her eyes but kept her gaze cast to the leaf-strewn ground. “Very much so.”
“Ah, then I gather you are endeavoring to give her a child who will be most like a child she and her husband might have created together.”
“Yes.” To keep her hands from shaking, Theodosia clasped them together. “I would have your answer now, Hammond.”
He smiled at her. “Theodosia, I am honored to have qualified to sire such a special child, and I accept your proposition.”
It was done, she thought. The father would be Hammond Llewellyn. She would lie with the British aristocrat and conceive his child.
Her mind spun with so many thoughts that she became suddenly dizzy. Taking a step backward, she sought to encounter Roman’s hard warm body, and lean against him.
She met with empty air. After a glance over shoulder, she saw Roman standing well away from her, and felt his distance keenly.
When she turned back around, the disquiet Hammond noted in her eyes reminded him of the affection she harbored for Roman. What she saw in that vulgar gunslinger, he couldn’t fathom.
He dismissed his own irritation, however, upon remembering that the beautiful Theodosia Worth had chosen
him
to take to her bed, not the ignorant Roman Montana. “Did you have a date and time in mind, my dear?” He hoped fervently that she planned to begin trying for the child this very night, for he’d wanted her ever since he first spotted her this afternoon.
“Not tonight,” Theodosia said, surprised by her own quick answer. “I…I’m afraid I am much too weary, Hammond. Roman and I have been traveling, and I—”
“I understand.” He kissed her hand once more. “Of course, you must rest. I shall collect you in the morning at eleven, whereupon we can enjoy a late breakfast together and become further acquainted with one another. And now, please allow me to escort you to your hotel room.”
As she walked back toward town at Hammond’s side, she heard Roman’s footsteps behind her. Before this night, he’d gone ahead of her, leading and protecting her with his skills. Now he trailed in her shadow.
A deep sense of sorrow gathered in the center of her chest, and she was suddenly glad Roman walked behind her.
That way he couldn’t see her tears.
“Y
ou didn’t sleep last night.”
Roman stood in the middle of the room, watching as Theodosia emerged from behind the dressing screen. “I heard you tossing.”
She stopped beside one of the two beds in the room and stared blankly at the patchwork quilt. “You did not sleep, either, Roman. I watched you rise from your bed and pace.”
He didn’t reply but waited to see if she had more to say to him.
She said nothing until she noticed his belongings beside the door. “What—”
“I’m moving to another room,” Roman explained upon seeing her look of confusion. “I can’t stay in here with you, and you damned well know it. It wasn’t so long ago that you informed me that I would have to sleep somewhere else once you’d picked the man to father the child. You do remember saying that, don’t you?”
Her eyes burned, but she allowed not a single tear to fall. Holding Roman’s intense gaze, she nodded.
He stared back at her.
Silence clung to the air like choking humidity until a loud knocking at the door finally broke it.
“He’s here,” Roman said.
Mr. Perfect,
he added silently.
“Are you—are you joining us for breakfast?”
Roman swore the tension between them was thick enough to slice. “I think you’ll be safe enough with Sir Blueblood and his fine little English pistol. If any dragons come along, he’ll rescue—”
The knock sounded again. “Theodosia?” Hammond called from the corridor. He knocked again.
Theodosia crossed to the bureau to retrieve her gloves and bonnet.
Each time Hammond knocked, Roman’s agitation rose. He glared at the door. “I’ll go keep him company while you finish dressing.” Quickly, he moved toward the door, struggled with the doorknob, and stepped into the hall.
Hammond watched him shut the door. “Is Theodosia—”
“She’s not ready yet.” Roman leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I see.” Hammond fondled the large diamond on his finger. “And do the two of you always share a room?”
“Yeah.”
“The same bed as well?”
Roman smiled. “That’s none of your business.”
Flustered, Hammond patted his carefully combed hair. “I presume you will be tagging along for breakfast?”
“Where Theodosia goes, I go.”
Hammond scowled. “You will not be present when I perform the services Theodosia has chosen me to execute, will you?”
Roman raised one black eyebrow. “Only if you need a man there to tell you how to perform them, Hamm.”
At the blatant insult, Hammond slapped his gloves across Roman’s cheek.
Roman didn’t flinch.
“Have you nothing to say about the fact that I slapped you, sir?” Hammond asked incredulously.
Roman sent a dangerous smile into Hammond’s eyes. “Ouch.”
“Sir, by slapping your cheek with my glove, I have issued a challenge to you,” Hammond explained, his irritation growing to anger.
Roman laughed. “You challenge men with gloves in England? What do you sissies do when the fight comes? Throw socks at each other?”
Hammond knew a fury that transcended all thought of civil behavior. Instantly, he reached inside his coat.
But before he had time to even touch the metal of his pistol, Roman whipped out his Colt, cocked it, and aimed it at Hammond’s chest.
Hammond paled with fear.
Roman decided the man looked as if he’d dipped his face into hot white wax and let it harden there. “If you can’t bed a woman any better than you can pull a gun, Hamm, then I think it’d be a damned good idea for me to be there while you attempt to get Theodosia with child. I could sit across the room and call out step-by-step instructions.”
Hammond had no chance to form a reply. From inside the room, Theodosia was trying to open the door. “Roman, are you out there? The door won’t open.”
Hammond took the knob but failed to turn it. “It seems to be jammed, my dear. Give me a moment, and I will bring the manager.”
Roman moved Hammond’s hand away and forced the doorknob to turn.
As soon as the door opened, Theodosia saw Roman’s heavy revolver in hand and understood that the two men had had words.
“This savage drew his gun on me,” Hammond announced.
Theodosia waited for Roman to elaborate.
He only met her gaze.
She read the truth in his brilliant blue eyes.
Watching their silent exchange, Hammond was reminded anew of their simmering attraction to each other. As he had last night, he tried to convince himself that their emotions didn’t matter, that
he
was the man who would bed Theodosia.
But his injured pride demanded reprisal, and after a moment of thought, he knew precisely how he could gain such satisfaction.
He threw back his bony shoulders. “Theodosia, I simply cannot endure this man’s presence. His thunderous expressions, dripping sarcasm, and fondness for violence have taken their toll on me. Indeed, my sensibilities have been tormented to such an extent that I must reconsider accepting your proposition.”
Theodosia laid her hand on his arm. “Hammond, surely you do not mean to—”
“Yes, my dear, I do. I am afraid that I will be unable to assist you in the fulfillment of your goals. I understand your unwavering desire to present your beloved sister with the child she has been unable to have, and I do apologize for having caused this inconvenience. I shall, however, stand firm in my decision. Good day to you both.”
Roman watched the nobleman march down the corridor, then turned back to Theodosia. He saw bewilderment in her beautiful eyes, and shock, and panic.
He saw defeat, and he understood that as she watched Hammond vanish down the hall, she was watching her goal disappear as well.
Something happened inside him at that moment. He couldn’t name it, but it made him resolve to prevent Theodosia from losing what she’d worked so hard to attain.
He leaned against the wall again and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, you win some, and you lose some.”
Slowly, Theodosia moved her gaze from Hammond’s back to Roman’s face. “I beg your pardon?”
“You lost, Theodosia. Failed with your plans. You aren’t going to get a kid for your sister. It’s just as well, though. It was a dumb idea in the first place, and it got even dumber when you picked that aristocratic ass.”
His callous attitude hurt her. She realized he didn’t want her sleeping with Hammond Llewellyn, but he didn’t have to gloat over the fact that her plans had fallen to ruin. “Roman—”
“I’ll see you later.” Roman tipped his hat and started down the hall. “I saw a few Thoroughbreds at the livery, and I’m going to go take a closer look at them. I’ve got a ranch to buy and horses to put on it, in case you’ve forgotten. You might have failed with
your
plans, but I’m for damned sure not going to fail with
mine.”
Still pretending smugness, he continued to stroll down the hall. When he reached the stairs, however, he raced down them, reached the lobby within seconds, then hid behind a tall potted plant by one of the windows.
In a few moments he saw Theodosia enter the lobby. She crossed through the room, exited the hotel, and stepped outside.
He watched her from the window. She spotted Hammond walking down the boardwalk and hastened to catch up with him.
The nobleman took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.
And the place inside Roman that Theodosia had managed to light up went dark again.
Chapter Fifteen
T
heodosia turned up the lamp and
chose the chair farthest away from the one in which Hammond sat. They’d spent the day together. Hammond had driven her to Enchanted Hill. He’d made a wish; she had not. The day was over now.
Night had fallen.
Was it her imagination, or did the bed seem to be getting bigger? Every time she looked at it, it appeared to have grown, as if to remind her what she was supposed to be doing in it.
A shiver of apprehension skimmed down her spine.
Folding her hands together on her lap, she examined her hotel room as though she’d never seen it before. It
did
seem different, she thought. No bullet-studded gunbelt or black hat hung on the hat-stand, and no boots lay in the middle of the floor. The closet contained her gowns, but not a single man’s shirt, and atop the dresser lay scattered a bit of her jewelry, her lacy handkerchief, and her reticule, but no sheathed dagger.
The room even smelled different. She couldn’t detect the scent of sunshine or steel or leather or the musky scent of hard work. She recognized only the fragrance of her wildflower perfume and Hammond’s spicy cologne.
The room contained nothing that might have reminded her of Roman.
“Theodosia, please do not be anxious.” Hammond tried to reassure her but could not help wondering when she would allow him to take her to bed. “I am a gentleman, and I shall be quite content to wait until you are sufficiently comfortable to proceed with your plans. We—”
He broke off suddenly when the sound of wagon wheels filled the room. Turning toward the window, he saw a parrot perched in a cage and realized the bird had made the sound.
John the Baptist threw peanut shells and water at the windowpane. “Did you know the real John the Baptist got his head cut off?” he called.
Hammond rose and approached the window. “A
Psittacus erithacus.
And what a handsome African gray he is, too. From whom did he hear the story of John the Baptist, Theodosia?”
Glad for the distraction her parrot had provided, Theodosia unfolded her hands and smoothed her chocolate-brown skirts. “His name is John the Baptist, but as for what he just said, I imagine Roman told him the story in a moment of anger. Roman has been at odds with my parrot on several occasions.” She smiled, remembering not only Roman’s habit of arguing with the bird as if the parrot could understand, but the two times Roman had saved John the Baptist’s life as well.
She recalled Roman’s crooked grin too. His quick temper, his unmatched survival skills, his boundless common sense, his deep, rich laughter, and all his hard-earned dreams.
She had so many memories of Roman Montana.
“Theodosia?”
She blinked and saw Hammond staring at her. “Yes?”